


Tap for Luck

by cognomen



Series: Pilot Superstition [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Poe Dameron, But mostly porn, Double Penetration, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Some Plot, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7144154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Poe sees them coming as he's pulling on his flight harness and lifts his arm at a greater angle than is really suave so that he can cover his enthusiasm for them with something casual. They have that collective look in their eyes that means two things, in Poe's experience:</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>1. They aren't just coming to wish him luck on his mission.</i><br/><i>2. Poe's about to need the extra support of the ship's bulkhead so that he can keep from losing his balance when they sweep him off his feet. </i> </p><p>Rey and Finn promise to be waiting for Poe when he gets back from his recon flight, and despite a couple of unexpected hiccups... they are. Takes place in the Pilot Superstition 'verse, but you can easily read this without reading the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tap for Luck

Poe sees them coming as he's pulling on his flight harness and lifts his arm at a greater angle than is really suave so that he can cover his enthusiasm for them with something casual. They have that collective look in their eyes that means two things, in Poe's experience:

1\. They aren't just coming to wish him luck on his mission.  
2\. Poe's about to need the extra support of the ship's bulkhead so that he can keep from losing his balance when they sweep him off his feet. 

Finn hugs him first, giving Poe a solid, fortifying thump between his shoulders and a big, bright grin. Poe leans against Black One again a little less steadily when Finn releases him. Rey's embrace is more delicate and demure, but she puts her mouth against his ear and says three words.

"I got it," Rey tells him, in a bright, sweet, enthusiastically naughty tone.

A thrill shoots down Poe's spine. His knees betray him and his arms slips along the recently waxed side of Black One until he nearly falls under the belly of the x-Wing as he unbalances.

Not smooth. Rey catches him by the lapels, pulling him back upright with a pleased smile. Over her shoulder, Finn is watching, too, smiling. His grin is the sign of a promise made between them. The suggestion that he knows exactly what Rey has just done to him, and Finn's in on it, too. 

Which, well, is sort of the point.

"See you in fifteen hours, pretty flyboy," Finn says, giving Poe a wink.

It's a promise they'll be waiting for him. That 'it' will be there, too.

The world seems to drift away from Poe for exciting instant, and he can feel his own nervous, exhilarated grin. it's going to be a _very_ long flight. 

"You two are terrible," he tells them, fondly. Affection seems to burrow into his chest, making a nest behind his heart. "Take care of yourselves while I save the universe."

He climbs the ladder up into the cockpit and tries to push the looming fantasies out of his mind in favor of the usual pre-flight checklist.

BB-8 beeps inquisitively at him from the astromech socket as he pulls on his helmet and checks life support.

"They were wishing me luck, buddy," Poe says, well aware that his blush is only just fading. BB-8 answers with skeptical good humor.

"Well, the _intent_ for 'have a safe journey' was all there," Poe says, reaching out to begin the warm-up process for the engines. "How am I supposed to be tormented with sweet anticipation for hours if we burn up?"

He checks his meal kit, reading the label in an old pilot's superstition - meat and tomato sauce. A safe bet because the meal - surplus from the New Republic Military - did not contain the 'lucky mandalorian' brand of candy. It's going to be a long flight. 

BB-8 chirps again, asking for clarification.

"Essentially they said they'll be waiting when we get back."

He mutters more to himself as he stashes his kit and flicks on environmental controls as the canopy lowers, "with baited breath."

Twenty seven hours later, all Poe can taste is the soft, cool flavor of mint on his tongue; his last well-rationed caffeinated candy. Even so, his reactions drag along somewhere behind the tail end of the X-Wing. The yoke seems to have left an impression on his palms that will last for days. 

He's hungry, despite the well-emptied packaging of his flight rations jammed into the tiny space to one side of the pilot's seat. Running on the fumes of emergency stims and caffeine and the electric false-alert feeling that they lend. When D'Qar comes into view at the end of his last hyperspace jump, nothing fills him but immense relief at being home. The promise of real sleep. Of being able to unfold himself from the tiny cramped space and the smell of vacuum packed red sauce.

"Alright, fellas," Poe says into his comm, cutting the long tired silence with what he can manage for encouragement. "You did well out there, uh, today. Above and beyond."

"I'm going to sleep for at least as long as we flew," Jess' voice interrupts Poe. He can hear the yawn that follows.

"I'll make sure to put in a recommendation for extra downtime," Poe says.

"Commander, no offense," Iolo cuts in. "But if we're all down, no one is up."

"It's the thought that counts?" Poe tries. They're all too tired to laugh. "Captain Wexley, since it was your detour, you can debrief General Organa."

"You're the ranking Officer," Snap argues. Poe has no mercy.

"That means I get to delegate what I don't wanna do," Poe says. "And I'm sure she'll have questions for me, too, but I need to sleep first."

He continues over Snap's protest. "Land safe, boys and girls. By the book. No sense getting sloppy just because you're glad we're home."

"Roger, Commander," Iolo says - Jess cuts him off.

" _Poe_ Commander," she says, tired. It's an old joke.

"See you topside," Iolo finishes, as if she'd never spoken.

Poe turns off his comm. "Not if I can help it."

Social interaction is very low on his list of priorities, even if it is just having a nightcap at the unofficial bar with his fellow pilots. He wants a long time in the 'fresher and a few long, uninterrupted hours in the sack. Even though he can smell stale sweat and long hours in his flight suit, it doesn't even have to be in that order.

He's so firmly on that course that he almost forgets to disengage BB-8 from the socket, until his friend shrieks a shrill reminder that brings him halfway back over the runway.

"Sorry, buddy," Poe yawns, as he trips the activation breaker and the X-Wing places BB-8 gently on the duracrete beneath it.

The droid's answer is curt, but forgiving. BB-8's been in the X-Wing as long as Poe has been, and while it's a different sort of taxing for both of them, it's still taxing for the droid.

BB-8 rolls along behind him, back to his 10x10 cube in the barracks. Not much, but a chance to sleep in privacy. The door yields to his palm-print and Poe doesn't even bother to turn on the lights. He gets himself into the refresher first, only because he wants nothing to do with his flight suit. It feels heavy and smells like unwashed body and the cockpit he'd left open to air out. His skin seems to have acquired a thick layer of grime beneath it. 

He stands beneath the stream with a still, muffled mind, empty of thoughts save to note where he is sore and stiff. The long muscles in his thighs and lower back promise that the next few days will be a process of returning them to normal. As he considers the pros and cons of curling up in the bottom basin of the refresher and sleeping until it goes cold, it scrubs him clean. He passes soapy fingers through his hair until it unclots from the shape of his helmet and calls it done.

He turns off the flow, pausing only to pass a towel against his face and pull on boxers. He drips his way out of the steamy bathroom and into the much cooler air of the main bunk, still content to do so in darkness. BB-8 has returned to a corner, settling in to recharge and run a diagnostic sequence.

Poe hasn't heard a better idea in over a day. He drops himself onto his bunk, anticipating the soft embrace, the thump of impact.

Instead, his bunk seems to suddenly made of knees and elbows.

"Ouch!" Finn's voice.

"Oooh," Rey's. Sleepy and surprised.

Poe struggles to get off of anything painful while the two bodies he's partially landed on rearrange themselves, giggling, enveloping Poe into the middle somehow as he tries to figure out what part belongs to what friend.

"I didn't know you were here," Poe apologizes.

"We're surprising you," Rey grunts, pushing Poe against Finn until she satisfactorily extracts herself. Poe goes boneless and permissive; attempting to help has proved unhelpful.

"Surprise?" Finn says, wrapping his arms around Poe and pulling him close instead of pushing him away. 

"I'm surprised," Poe says, getting his arms to work, wrapping one around Finn's neck and reaching back for Rey with the other. "So, why am I surprised?"

Rey settles against his back and then he feels - he _remembers_.

There's a slim, hard shape against Poe's ass, and he remembers the promise they'd made before he took off. His heart seems to grow a size in his chest. Twenty seven hours - any sane lovers would have called it off or settled for entertaining each other. Only in Poe's crazy galaxy are they still waiting.

"Well, we heard there was a delay," Rey explains.

"We figured we'd switch from meeting you on the runway to waiting for you here," Finn adds.

"Mmmhmm," Poe murmurs, encouragingly. It's warm and comfortable and after the initial shock of finding his bed occupied has worn off, the tiredness is creeping back into his bones. It's easy to feel utterly relaxed in the calm, supportive space between the two of them.

"Maybe we fell asleep," Finn says. 

"You have the most comfortable bunk," Rey agrees.

Poe smiles against Finn's neck. His hands are on Poe's back, rubbing and soothing, targeting the lower muscles with perfect pressure. Rey's hands are tracing shapes over Poe's belly, her rough skin over smooth soft surface in a distracting pattern.

"I traded for it," Poe says, feeling every fiber of resistance in his body dissolving.

Rey rubs the device against the curve of Poe's back, just below where Finn's hands are working. It feels just as good as the real thing, which he can feel getting hard against his belly, just below where Rey is touching. It's a beautiful, aching echo of a promise. Poe reaches back to take the measure of the cock Rey's chosen for herself and finds that it is slender, longer than his palm. Tirelessly hard.

He shivers. "I don't know if I can," Poe admits. Not because he's incapable - he would push and stretch every border his body has wide open for them, but that's an effort for enthusiasm and eagerness and he's so exhausted.

"You can," Rey assures him.

"Let us," Finn soothes.

It's permission to just _experience_ this, to live it as it happens, trusting his companions to take care of him, and everything else required.

Poe nods, finding enthusiasm enough for that.

It's short work for Rey to help Finn get his boxers off, baring his skin to the cool air of his quarters, flagging his forming erection for a moment until they surround him again. True to their word, Poe doesn't have to ask for anything - they know him well enough by now and he suspects that they've all endured a long wait for this. Finn's at his front, Rey's pressed tight behind him, and Poe feels protected and safe.

Their hands stroke over him - Rey's on his back while Finn grips his cock with slow, coaxing motions until Poe sighs out with building pressure. Then, Finn's hands over his chest, thumbing his nipples until Poe cries out at the near pain-pleasure of it, while Rey teases slick fingers behind his balls, rubbing a wet and dripping path over his perineum with just enough pressure.

His breath makes a thick, race-horse sound against Finn's collarbone as the sensations echo and reverberate through Poe, magnifying and compounding. He can't resist anything, can't prolong. He's so tired he forgets to do anything but _feel_ the pair of them teasing him open - body and soul.

Rey eases two slender fingers in, stretching, and Finn guides one of Poe' s knees up over his hip. He adds one blunt finger to the mix in a promise of what's coming, and Poe whimpers his pleasure, curling his fingers into whatever hold he can get. He can hear his nails zipping against the sheets, but he can't process the sensation. He wants Rey and Finn to _keep doing that_ \- he wants - 

"More," he begs, and it would be embarrassing except he's too tired, too horny, too ready for it.

Rey gives him more lube, instead, and Poe digs his hands deeper into the covers and pulls his body into a demanding roll of his his hips.

"'m ready," he promises, surprised by the soft slur of his own voice. "Please."

"You sure?" Rey asks.

Poe nods against Finn.

"You'll tell us if it's too much?" Finn adds.

"Not enough," Poe pants. He pushes at Finn, tired of being held delicately. Rey's fingers withdraw hastily as Poe shoves Finn down onto his back and straddles his hips. 

Finn chuckles, but he still presses for his answer. "I'll take that as a yes?"

" _Yes_ , I'd tell you," Poe says, knowing they could never be too much for him and reaching back to get his hand on Finn's thick cock, stroking along the slick length as he guides it into place. " _No_ we're not anywhere near too much yet."

"Greedy," Rey accuses.

Poe doesn't disagree as she threads her hands into his hair - he feels drops of water from his 'fresher running down the back of his neck as her tight grip wrings it out of his curls. Rey's bare chest settles flush against Poe's back, and her hand joins his as he guides Finn into himself. He can feel the slide of the harness over the bare skin of his hip.

He breathes out slowly as he sinks down onto Finn's cock. It's a long, sweet stretch, and he knows it's only beginning. The anticipation reaches an electric prickle under Poe's skin, despite the bone-deep tired. It means his body offers no resistance to speak of when Rey pushes him flat against Finn's chest so she can get the angle she needs.

"Alright?" she asks him. He can feel her lining up alongside Finn, pressing against him and waiting for his go ahead. 

Poe lets out a deep breath and Finn's hands make a reassuring sweep against his sides, over his sore muscles.

"Yeah," Poe says, hearing strain in his voice already, topping it off with a nod.

He can feel the pressure increase and then, for a long moment while he feels and hears himself groaning, making helpless noises - he's _sure_ for an instant that it's not going to happen. It feels like Rey is pushing against an unyielding brick wall, even though he's not resisting. He curls his hands into the sheets, widens his knees and then - suddenly - she's in. He has to catch his breath, pulling in air with a hiss, pushing back to work her deeper before she can slip free again.

She helps,pushing her hips forward slow and steady as Poe gasps out, his mouth open against Finn's skin breathing in the scent of him with each eager gasp. The sensation is overwhelming for Poe, consumptive.

He loses himself there as Rey fucks him to the hilt, between them and open wider than he's ever been to let them in. She moves him with slow surges, just pure white sensation. When she's as deep as she can get, they all pause.

Poe realizes that Finn's holding perfectly still and it drags him up out of his own depths. He struggles free of the raw pit of sensation - _so much, all pressure, pushing him in all of the most delicious places._

"Finn, buddy," he groans. It feels like he has to push his voice out past a knot in his belly. "You okay?"

Finn's deep brown eyes seem unfocused when he opens them, darker than before, all pupil. He takes a deep breath that Poe _feels_ to his core. It surges Finn up and into him, because there's no give anywhere else to go. Every motion just goes right _into_ Poe.

"It's tight," Finn says. Poe feels his voice too, through his chest.

"Too tight?" Rey asks, shifting her hips side to side a little. Poe clutches the sheets and groans - he can feel her against his back, too.

It's _good_.

"No," Finn allows. He moves too, waking that deep itch-spark of pleasure that makes Poe sigh. "I just - it'll be really fast for me, if I move too much."

" _Somebody_ better move," Poe pleads. 

"Boys," Rey sighs, teasing them. She gives an experimental thrust with her hips and Poe claws at the mattress on either side of Finn's shoulders, unsure if he'd survive pushing back, unsure if he can stand not to.

Finn's hands cover Rey's on Poe's hips, pushing as she pulls, and in that moment he's so deeply overwhelmed that he just sinks down into it, lets them take care of him. His body eases into it, even though each thrust seems to fill him beyond all possibility, drawing desperate sounds out of his chest and into Finn's skin. it feels a little less impossible with every thrust, gets a little easier like the place they've made inside him is permanent. He's dripping slick, well prepared thanks to Rey's attention. The thrusts are piston smooth, just hard enough, and then, below him, Finn begins to move opposite, pushing up in small helpless motions that are counterpoint. His hands are tight against Poe's hips now, guiding and holding on tight enough to bruise.

It'll be something to revisit later, a constellation he can cover with is palm and rub to make the sensations wake up in his memory.

Come to think of it - in a _very_ distant and distracted sort of way - he'd better not remember anywhere in public. His cock is so hard and so sensitive that he thinks the friction of Finn's moving body is going to be enough. That, and the way he's stretched so wide around them that they couldn't miss his prostate if they were trying.

It reduces Poe to an echo; an attempt to exist around the sensations that build and grow, rebounding until they seem to threaten to burst out of him.

He cums hard, without a thought to spare for how close his companions are - Finn's thrusts are shuddering and stopping when Poe's body draws bow-tight and clamps down, and _that's_ just shy of painful with Rey's unyielding dick still deep inside him, but it doesn't matter at all.

In fact, in those seconds, nothing in the world matters but stars and aftershocks. Poe hasn't cum this hard since he was a teenager - but he's never done anything like _this_ , either. Just in wild dreams.

He loses himself in the sticky, hot aftermath. The room seems to have gotten ten degrees hotter from their efforts. He's soaked with his own cooling sweat and his own release, both rendered less offensive by the fact he had been freshly clean.

When Rey pulls out it's an ordeal; like a tender world is evacuating and he groans and bears down instinctively but there's two sets of soothing hands on him, and only when she's out does it seem like he can breathe deeply enough to find oxygen.

"How was that?" Rey breathes against his ear, somehow breathless; like fucking Poe has done more of her than it should have. Some combination of friction and motion and control has gotten her off just as well as her two - boyfriends?

Poe is not going to argue semantics right now, even with himself.

He cradles his body between both of theirs and feels the uplift in his soul that happens when they all support each other.

"I dunno if I have a wide enough sample for an opinion yet," Poe gasps. His voice sounds sex-wrecked and rough. "Maybe we should try a few more times so I can get a really good metric?"

Rey laughs, and Finn makes a low sound.

"Not right now," Finn says, sounding just as tired as Poe. "We tried it out a couple of times while we waited and I am _bushed_."

Rey swats Poe's flank as she squirms out of the harness, and it makes a sharp sound but no sting. "We'll try again, but you'll have to ask very nicely."

"Who's 'Very Nicely'?" Poe yawns. "I'll send him a requisition request." 

Rey only shoves him a little, before they settle down in easy quiet, and Poe sleeps as hard as he usually flies, cradled between their bodies like he belongs there as much as in a cockpit.

-

[END.]

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been sitting on this little piece of the Pilot Superstition 'verse for a long time thinking maybe I'd try to work it into the next story, or maybe I'd publish it after the next main part of the plot, but honestly I believe in BEING the change I want to see and the world needs more Double Penetration Poe(tm)
> 
> The title is a take on a pilot superstition where you tap some part of the plane for luck prior to take off. Also it's a bad joke about 'tapping that ass'; which they are in fact doing. Good job u two.
> 
> Also Poe makes dad jokes after sex and you can't tell me otherwise. Well, you can of course. Try [My Tumblr.](http://shawarma-palace.tumblr.com)


End file.
